


Abandon All Hope (Part 3)

by gone_to_fight_the_fairies



Series: Abandon All Hope [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s05e10 Abandon All Hope..., F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 00:11:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17652368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gone_to_fight_the_fairies/pseuds/gone_to_fight_the_fairies
Summary: Series Summary: Castiel and the Reader find themselves unable to fight their mutual affections; even in the midst of tragedy as they are joined by Dean, Sam, Ellen, and Jo on a mission to stop Lucifer. An adaptation of the episode “Abandon All Hope” (Season 5, Episode 10)





	Abandon All Hope (Part 3)

The sun had come out by the time the Winchesters met up with you and the Harvelles. But the weather did not foreshadow what was to happen. Meg appeared with eight or so hell hounds at her side. And while Dean attempted to keep up the witty banter as long as he could, the inevitable occurred. Meg sent her hellhounds chasing after the group. 

You all sprinted as fast as you could. And while Dean was a fast runner, he had been closest to the hellhounds and was directly jumped. Hearing his grunt, you and Jo turned around, taking turns shooting at the invisible beast as Ellen and Sam made it to a hardware shop and began to pry the doors open. 

“Guys, stay back!” Dean yelled at you and Jo. 

Neither of you listened to Dean as you took your aim at the mutt, careful not to hit Dean. The hellhound jumped off of Dean’s back, leaving him woundless. While Jo continued to shoot at it, cornering it in front of a garbage can, you rushed to Dean’s aid. 

You heard Jo scream mix with a demented snarl as you were hauling Dean to his feet, and from the corner of your eye, you saw your friend on her back with a hellhound tearing up her torso, spewing blood out of her, pouring onto the ground instantly. You turned, aiming your rifle at the supernatural mutt. 

However, as Dean stood, you were brought down. A hound had come up from behind and locked onto your thigh. It began to drag you back towards Meg as you cried out. You could hear another snarl at the side of your head. You quickly raised your shotgun, firing in its direction several times, and its bellows led you to believe it to be dead. 

You could hardly hear Ellen and Sam’s screams over the gunshot ringing in your ears. You heard one distinct ear-piercing scream, but unable to look up as you fought the mutt that released your leg to nudge you on your back, ready to strike any of the softer parts of your body. You began to fire at the mutt hovering over you. It screeched, and fell away. 

There were only two things on your mind. Jo. And the pain in your leg. Those two things kept you fighting. You sat up, and in the midst of many terrorizing sounds, you listened for more dogs. Having heard a couple of snarls you shot around you, hoping to take down as many as you could before another dog attacked. 

Before more could, Dean was over you, roaring on about what you didn’t know. The Winchester wrapped an arm around your back and reached under your knees and lifted you as you continued to shoot. Dean ran, holding you tight against his chest into the hardware store. 

You didn’t know how bad off Jo was until Dean set you down on your feet, only to collapse beside Jo. All you could see was blood, buckets of it. From your spot on the ground, you tore your jacket from your shoulders, and applied it to Jo’s torso, hoping to keep the injury at bay long enough to get her out of harm’s way. 

As time went on, you could hear loud grunts and snarls from outside as the Hellhounds scratched at the doors. But there was no logical plan of getting the five of you safely out of the building without the hellhounds noticing. Dean, Sam, and Ellen barricaded the store well, nearly covering the entire store in salt. Though you were stuck, with no plan of escape as long as the hellhounds circled the building. 

One of the hellhounds successfully taken a chunk out of your lower thigh, tearing ligaments and muscles apart, creating excruciating pain in your entire leg. You were confined to the floor alongside Jo, unable to stay up on your feet for more than a minute before collapsing to the floor. But your only focus was Jo, who’s wound was far worse. Ellen had wrapped your leg when you were resistant, focusing on applying pressure to Jo’s wound. You tried to keep in as much blood as possible as you waited for some plot to get free from the looming hellhounds less than thirty feet from you. But you assumed death was nearing as the group waited in the hardware store, like sitting ducks. 

And as you sat, with nothing other to do than to hold out for a miracle, all you were left to do was think. Which gave you time to become terrified for your favorite angel. The last you saw him, he’d left to find out the reasoning behind the increased population of reapers. And now you sat, anticipating for either your leg wound or hellhounds to kill you. Still you couldn’t help but feel more anxious for the angel, as you fretted the worst outcome for him. You knew if Castiel were able, he’d come to save everyone, or at least try. Meg and the hellhounds were inferior in power compared to Castiel; meaning something was wrong. 

Silently praying to Castiel, you begged he was alive. You requested if he could hear your prayer that he’d give you a sign to show you he was alright. You wanted him safe more than yourself. You just wanted him to be alive. You needed him alive. Oh, if you could just get the chance ever to tell him in person how much you couldn’t live without him. 

After your prayer went without a word from the angel you fought tears. You struggled to save face for everyone there. But your eyes watered as your eyes roamed over Jo as her face paled and eyes began to droop. 

“Jo, hang in there,” you encouraged her, grabbing her hand, giving her a light squeeze. 

“I’m gonna try,” Her breath was shortened. “But, Y/N, when I die-” You made a face at her, but she continued. “You gotta do something for me.” You wanted to yell at her; tell her not to give up hope. But you knew you couldn’t; knew she wouldn’t. Helplessly, you nodded waiting to hear what she said. “Tell that damn angel you love him already.” Her laugh ended in a coughing fit. “He loves you too, you know.” 

For the first time in your life, you admitted it. “I promise.” 

Eventually, Dean radioed Bobby, who was screaming at Dean about your disappearance. Dean quickly informed your father about the group’s predicament, and when prompted about your heath, you made Dean lie. Bobby didn’t need to know the extent of the injuries. 

As even more time went on, you accepted your faith, assuming yourself nearly dead as your wound began to drain the lifeforce out of yourself. But what you feared for was Jo, who admitted paralyzation of her legs and proposed blowing the store up in hopes of killing all of the hellhounds, allowing all those healthy to escape. You had been resistant, not willing to leave your friend, but reality set in and you knew she didn’t have much time. 

You offered to stay with Jo and let the hellhounds inside the building to better proof the plan. It was a reasonable thought as your injury would slow the others down and figured you should be the only candidate to accompany your suicide mission. But Ellen interjected, claiming she would be the one to die with her daughter. She told you that you needed to get home safely to Bobby. That she would be the only one to lose a daughter that day. You only knew the plan worked once you had been dragged away by the Winchesters, having been reluctant of leaving your family to die. Hot tears sprung down your cheeks as the store burned, leaving all hope for the Harvelle’s behind. Sam helped you walk back to the Impala to find Lucifer and hopefully Castiel. You prayed for your friend again, hoping he’d answer to prove he was still alive. You couldn’t lose anyone else. 

The three of you scouted the woods for Lucifer, which wasn’t too difficult as he stood in a large open space in the woods, with the townspeople standing behind him spread out, performing a ritual to bring upon Death, one of the four horsemen. 

You weren’t able to kill the devil. The colt failed as Lucifer was too powerful. And as the ceremony occurred, Lucifer offered to heal you, in place for Sam’s agreement to be the angel’s vessel. You made Sam reject the offer, telling Lucifer himself that you’d “rather die than be his bargaining chip.” Nevertheless, you felt yourself growing fatigued and began to believe that you were living your last moments. 

Lucifer continued the ritual. While having his back to the three of you, Castiel manifested beside you, motioning with his finger to remain silent as he whisked the remainder of the group away from Lucifer. 

Next thing you knew, you were back at home in the library, on your feet for a split second before you stumbled unable to keep yourself upright for any longer. Castiel caught you in his arms and placed you on the recliner as Bobby swore from surprise at the group’s arrival. 

His outbursts only increased as he came to understand you were injured. 

“What the hell happened?” Bobby screamed at the Winchesters. But they were motionless zombies. Grief struck. Not only were they unsuccessful in the attempt to kill Lucifer but Ellen and Jo died in vain. And they were anxiously watching you and Castiel, waiting for the angel to heal you. 

You gaped at Castiel glossy-eyed as he evaluated your wound, eyes darkening as he gazed over the bite. He raised two of his fingers to your forehead as you found the strengt to speak. 

“You’re alive.” You praised as his fingers softly connected to your forehead. 

You felt a wave of something that neither described as warm or cool, regardless, it was comforting; it was his grace rushing through every cell, healing anything major or minor. It was strange to suddenly feel no physical pain, after an hour or so of pure torture; it was the opposite of the relief it should have been as it let all of the emotional shock set into your conscious. 

Instantly, you leaned over the side of the chair and hurled over the floor, unable to hold back your sickness as reality sunk in. You felt a hand on your back, and Castiel’s grace coursing through your body again, as you made a mess over the floor, which would have disgusted you under a normal circumstance. 

“I… I don’t understand,” Castiel sputtered in disbelief as his grace washed through you. “I healed her of all injuries. She shouldn’t-” 

“It’s from grief, Cas.” You heard Sam say. 

You finished puking, but remained over the armrest of the chair, as you felt Castiel’s thumb rub circles on your spine. You could feel another presence approach and the hand on your back vanish. 

“Hey, hey,” your dad murmured. “You’re going to be okay.” 

You wiped your sleeve across your mouth before sitting up in the chair. You saw Dean shift out of the room, assuming he needed to be alone to grieve. Sam was leaning in the doorway. “No,” You told your father. “I’m not.” 

“Well,” His voice instantly softened. Your father kneeled on your right, while Castiel stood on your left protectively. “What happened?” 

You glanced over at Castiel, seeing as he was completely fixated on you, waiting as eagerly as your father to hear the story. You tore your gaze away, eyeing Sam, with a plea to explain what had happened instead. Truth be told, you didn’t have the stomach for it. 

The younger Winchester got the hint. “It was Meg.” And Sam went on, but by that time you drowned out the sound of Sam’s voice. Not allowing yourself to listen to the horrors you already lived. But Sam never captivated Castiel’s attention. 

“Y/N?” Castiel asked you. 

You raised your eyes to meet his once more. “Are you alright, Cas?” Your voice shook to some degree. “Are you hurt?” 

Castiel shook his head in disbelief. “I am fine. It’s you I’m worried about.” Castiel paused, cupping your cheek with his palm. “Y/N, I am so sor-” 

“And where were you, angel?” Bobby suddenly exploded at Castiel. “It seems all of this could’ve been avoided if these kids had your mojo-” 

“That’s not fair.” You glared at Bobby. “You don’t think he risked his life today too? The mission wasn’t to keep us alive; it was to stop the devil.” 

“Which failed,” Bobby added. 

“Lucifer trapped me. I was unable to escape until after he left.” Castiel admitted. “I can not begin to apologize.” 

“I’d be dead if he hadn’t poofed us back here, Dad.” You added, eyes still locked on Bobby. “Don’t blame this on him.” You slowly stood, rejecting the help from Castiel. “But, you can blame Ellen’s death on me.” You didn’t look back as you flew from the room. 

That night no one could sleep. While Bobby, Dean, and Sam turned to booze, you found yourself tempted to drink your sorrows away too, but reframed. You wanted to feel the pain; it reminded you what you lost, and you wouldn’t ever allow yourself to get over Ellen or Jo. You wouldn’t numb your pain, you wouldn’t let Lucifer or Meg win. 

You sat outback, on the backdoor’s stairs, gazing up at the stars. Your eyes dried, unable to produce more tears. You were a zombie, passively thinking about nothing other than the loss of two great hunters and Lucifer’s victory. Stewing in your own self-hate, you didn’t realize for a moment that Castiel appeared, holding out a bottle of water in your direction. You jumped out of your skin at the realization. 

“I sense you are dehydrated,” When you did nothing other than staring at the bottle, Castiel began to beg. “Please?” 

Castiel was trying, you could see it. He regretted his disappearance, and he was doing anything he could to make it up. You didn’t believe there was anything for the angel to regret, however, to ease his conscious you took the bottle with a shaky hand. Twisting off the cap, taking a small sip, you eyed Castiel. 

“You can sit if you want.” 

Castiel sat to your right cautiously. 

You thought back to Jo’s last request, to tell Castiel the truth. But as the both of you sat in silence, you couldn’t find the right words to start. You gazed anywhere other than Castiel, eyes roaming from the Junk Yard to the stars. After a moment, you felt Castiel become antsy, which was rather unusual since he preferred a peaceful silence. 

“I don’t want you to think I ignored your prayers earlier today.” Castiel started. “They are what drove me to escape.” 

“I prayed to you because I was afraid that you were dead, Cas.” You told with a slight edge to your voice. “I didn’t pray because I thought you’d come save us. I knew something was wrong when you didn’t show.” 

“Y/N, I know this.” He confirmed. “I felt your anxiety for me.” 

After another moment of silence, he began again. “I can not apologize enough for my absence. I shouldn’t have played into Lucifer’s hand. Words can not express my condolences for your loss. Ellen and Jo were both remarkable people.” 

“I’m just thankful Lucifer didn’t kill you. I thought we’d find your vessel’s corpse.“ You felt Castiel’s guilt in the air. "Cas, everyone knew the risks-” 

“Then why do you blame yourself? Sam explained to me why you indict yourself for Ellen’s death. She wouldn’t part without her daughter. That is not your fault. And frankly,” Castiel added. “I owe everything to Ellen for it.” Castiel let the words hang. 

You tore your eyes off the ground to stare at Castiel with astonishment. You felt your breath hitch. You must have appeared surprised because Castiel tilted his head, perplexed. “What?” 

Again, Jo’s request pestered you. “Because she saved me?” 

With no hesitation, he answered. “Yes.” 

You glanced down at Castiel’s hand, the one that rested on your shoulder in the photo from the previous night. Cautiously, you covered your own hand over his, giving it a light squeeze. With your gaze dropped, you missed Castiel’s concupiscence stare that rested on your face. He almost smiled as his gaze too dropped to your hands. And as he began to speak, he turned his palm up, intertwining your fingers. “I owe Ellen everything for allowing you to continue living.” 

You got the courage to look at the angel’s face. His eyes followed yours, and for a moment you found yourself distracted from the tragedies surrounding your lives. 

“Cas,” You began, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks as you realized what you were about to do. “Jo made me promise something before she died.” You paused watching Castiel become inquisitive, hanging off every word you spoke. Anxiously, you tried to image a way out of your explanation, but knew you had to tell the angel. “She wanted me to tell you the truth; about my feelings for you.” 

“Your emotions are the same as mine?” 

“Depends, how do you feel about me?” 

Castiel gave you a small smile. “I feel, as though I finally have a greater purpose, because of you. I rebelled against heaven because you taught me to fight for what I believe in. You taught me to feel something, Y/N. That is the most important thing. I’ve learned to love humanity, and in doing so, I feel I’ve grown so fond of you that it certainly frightens me. Is that anyway similar to how you feel?” 

You leaned into Castiel, pressing your lips lightly to his as a confirmation. But you felt Castiel’s posture stiffen, and you instantly retracted. 

“Sorry. I just thought that’s where you were headed.” You breathed, a nervous laugh coming out as you believed you misread Castiel’s point. 

“No, uh, you’re right.” Castiel sputtered. “I just wasn’t expecting… I’m just not used to that much,” You watched his eyes dart to your mouth, “intimacy.” 

“Cas, you don’t have to-” In a flash, he eagerly had lips on yours. You noted that his mouth was possibly the sweetest things you’d ever tasted as you began to lose yourself in a trance of his lips. 

You pulled back to have a gasp of air as Castiel smiled to himself. But all too suddenly his smile was replaced with a frown. “I also feel as though I have a better reason than ever to stop Lucifer.” 

Instantly, you were brought back down to reality and your eyes water. “We need to make him pay for this, for the Harvelles.” You sniffled. 

“Somehow we’ll find a way.” You leaned your head onto his shoulder, crying softly into it as Castiel wrapped an arm around you, circling his thumb over your shoulder, comforting you the best way he knew. “I promise you, we’ll find a way.”


End file.
